


Finding Ease on the Brink of Desolation

by Anoriell



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Book & movie spoilers, Canon Divergence, Incest, M/M, Prompt Fic, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anoriell/pseuds/Anoriell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short respite for Thorin's company in the looming shadows of the Lonely Mountain as it lies but twenty or so miles away. The end is near. An end to their journey and hopefully, an end to their exile. But what other end awaits them? Or perhaps it is to be a beginning? A new start. After all, there are firsts for everything. N'est-ce pas, my dear Bilbo?</p>
<p>(You should come on in and read the prompt. It just might urge you on.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baring More than Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DistractionReaction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractionReaction/gifts).



> With her permission, this story is a spin-off from DistractionReaction's brilliant series entitled 'When Lions meet a Mouse'. You should totally check it out; I guarantee you, it will be worth your while. And then some. Having irreversibly fallen for her Durin brothers characterization, I really wished to thank her for such a beautiful depiction of them by offering her a fic as per her chosen prompt. Well, then. A prompt she gave me. Yes, indeed. And here it is: "I would love to have a fic where Fili, Kili and Bilbo are sleeping together, maybe earlier in their relationship? And they get Bilbo to top one of them for the first time. I'd love him to be all awkward about it at first, but slowly enjoying taking control as time goes on. I'd also like to see both brothers involved, helping him get comfortable, and trying to coax him out of his sexual shell."
> 
> I will do the prompt justice to the best of my ability but for perhaps one little exception: because I am using her own timeline and established relationship development, I am not certain just how early in their relationship she would consider this to be seeing as it takes place after Part 3 and probably just before Part 4 (of her series). And though this fic most definitely is a stand-alone (you do not need to have read the series to be able to follow), I still strongly recommend that you take the time to read 'When Lions meet a Mouse'. For your own pleasure.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: the two quotes in italic in the first part of the chapter are direct excerpts from DistractionReaction's 'When Lions meet a Mouse' - Part 2: 'When Three is Company'
> 
> Hope you enjoy the read!

_“Though I will say this. Next time, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to try this with the full use of my hands, thank you very much.”_

Bilbo's words kept creeping to the fore despite Fili's best efforts to remain focused on the discussion at hand as Balin regaled them with tales of Esgaroth before it was known as Lake-town. The object of his current musings was sitting across from him, the leftovers of what had been a warm and palatable meal scattered on the table between them. Bofur and his cousin Bifur flanked the hobbit, cradling their pints of ale and looking to be paying no mind to the storytelling. The two miners were lost in thoughts, Bofur absent-mindedly twirling the ends of his mustache around a finger, his gaze fixed on his drink, while Bifur actually had his eyes closed and seemed to be breathing rather deeply, his body slightly leaning towards Bombur to his left who was busy quaffing his mead and licking his fingers. Unaware of the slumbering dwarf at his side, Bilbo was sitting straight, completely engrossed in Balin's narrative. Fili could not help but smile with warm affection. The little burglar could never resist a good story, nor a chance to learn something new about the world beyond the borders of his precious Shire. Even if it was rather late into the night and their journey down the Forest River and into Long Lake had been anything but smooth. Or warm, for that matter. How he longed for the heat and comfort of an actual bed. And the privacy of a room. His eyes strayed to the hobbit once more, with his flushed cheeks and red-tipped nose. If Ori's count was exact, two full months and a fortnight had passed since their first night in Beorn's Hall.

_“I’ll have you know us hobbits, while small, are made of tougher stuff than that.”_

The dwarven prince swallowed, his throat having gone dry at the memory. Drinking deep from his tankard, he shifted on the bench, spreading his legs wider to assuage his sudden discomfort.

Dwalin elbowed him then, clearing his throat in quite the obvious manner. Balin, sitting to Fili's left, stopped talking and leaned forward raising a questioning eyebrow in his brother's direction. Bilbo too was now staring at the warrior, his forehead creased with lines of annoyance and his lips pinched together - no doubt holding back a few chastising words intended for the gruff-looking dwarf. After all, it was rude to interrupt.

"Do you disagree with the accuracy of my account?" Balin was frowning despite his tone revealing nothing but patience. Or accustomed tolerance, perhaps.

"He is itching for his axes, more like," Gloin offered from the other end of the table. However, by the disconsolation marking his face, one could easily guess that he mourned the loss of his own prized axe to the darkness of Mirkwood and its pointy-eared inhabitants. In fact, they had all escaped the Elvenking's realm weaponless, as Thorin had truthfully declared to the captain of the guard upon arriving at Lake-town's great bridge. Even Orcrist was lost to his uncle now. Of course, he too missed his array of weaponry: throwing axes, small knives, his two swords and his war hammer. But when all was said and done, better to be free of Thranduil's clutches with nothing but the clothes on their backs and their lives still their own than to spend another day in that dark and empty cell.

Though how the surly dwarf had managed to salvage his abacus, he did not know. Yet there it was, cradled between Gloin's hands as he muttered to himself, sliding the intricately carved beads with stubby fingers - probably tallying up their recent losses.

Dwalin stood abruptly, ignoring his brother's question. "I am off to find Thorin," he all but grumbled before making his way to the tavern door. Balin followed him with his gaze, a worried expression settling on his face. Still, the elder sibling said nothing.

And that left Fili in the company of six. Complaining about his venerable age and stiff joints after their unpleasant barrel adventure, Oin had followed Ori, Dori and Nori to the house that had been offered them by the town Master for the duration of their stay. With promises that food would be brought to them, they were tasked by their leader to ensure that their newly appointed lodgings were both secure and adequate - if not superior to the comforts that an inn could provide - for the weary company. For his part, Thorin had (reluctantly) opted to remain at the feast in the great hall with the Master of the town and his Lake-men. Refusing an invitation to sit at the high table - in the Master's great chair, no less - would have been a slight against the honor bestowed upon him by their host. A wise decision, certainly. Gandalf would have been proud to see Thorin finally revealing some measure of tact.

Sadly, Dwalin's departure had broken the spell woven by Balin's bardic talents and the remaining members of the group appeared to take this as their cue to call it a night. Every one of them was nursing his fair share of aches and bruises. All of them were exhausted beyond imagination. It was indeed time to find some peaceful rest.

Bilbo sneezed just as Bofur nudged his cousin awake. "Bless you," voiced Bombur from behind the hobbit, ready to drag Bifur off the bench should the need arise. In the end, the five remaining dwarves, other than Fili, managed an exit without attracting too much attention from the other patrons. Bofur had surprised their burglar by hugging him with a whispered 'thank you', his gratitude for Bilbo's part in the rescue obvious in his friendly smile and caring eyes. Balin too had expressed his appreciativeness by making his way around the table and laying a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. He had reiterated his indebtedness towards Bilbo with soft words and a damp gaze.

Fili had watched the exchanges with pride swelling in his heart. Truly, their companion was a remarkable fellow and deserved every bit of praise.

"Well, then." Bilbo looked somewhat nervous. Only the two of them remained.

Across the table, Fili was watching him, his regard filled with possibilities. "Ready to turn in as well?" To which Bilbo shook his head. This surprised the young dwarf for he had noticed the symptoms as the hours passed and surely the hobbit knew that sleep was the best remedy to overcome an oncoming cold. He said as much.

"There is something I must do first." Though Bilbo would say no more.

Fili managed to hide his disappointment behind forced curiosity. "Can it not wait until morning?" He did not mean to sound insistent but after his discussion with their scribe earlier, it was paramount that Bilbo remain with him if his plans were to come to fruition.

"Regretfully, no." Yet Bilbo did not sound too regretful. In fact, he sounded agitated. Worried, even.

Fili leaned forward, linking his fingers together atop the wooden surface before him. His tone dropped to a near whisper as he glanced around before asking, "Is everything all right? Is there trouble, little one?"

Bilbo must have realized that he had raised the dwarf's concern with his odd behavior and vague replies because he quickly stammered an apology, staring at his empty cup. Somehow, the hobbit had managed to get the innkeeper to serve him some tea.

Fili trusted Bilbo. He did not dare pry any further. And so he nodded. "Will you meet us back here? Afterwards?" He gestured with his hands, without any definite significance behind the motion. Whatever 'afterwards' meant to his companion.

This got Bilbo's attention. "Here?" He glanced towards the door, through which the rest of the company had left. "I must have misunderstood. I thought there was a house at our disposal. A large house." His brow was knit in confusion as he sniffled a bit.

Fili made a mental note to seek out the market place on the morrow. Their little burglar was in need of a new handkerchief. A proper one, as befitting a respectable hobbit. "You have the right of it," he confirmed with a soft curving of lips. "Only, Kili and I thought it would be best if we took up a room at the inn." Such an announcement earned him a pair of rounded eyes and a marked silence. He hesitated. "If it pleases you, of course."

Bilbo shook himself out of his stupor and actually stuttered, "If it ... y-you ... Kili?" He rotated his finger a few inches above the table, pointing downwards, and repeated the movement a few times more for emphasis. "The th-three of us?" Exhaling sharply, he allowed a genuine smile to shine through. "If it pleases me? Must you ask?"

Fili nodded once, his eyes mirthful.

"Nothing would please me more, Master Fili." His excitement was infectious and the dwarf found that he could not suppress a grin. Reaching forward, he covered Bilbo's hand with his own, letting the pad of his thumb brush over the fork of the hobbit's own thumb and index finger. It was a small thing, really. A simple touch. Yet it sent a distinctive thrill through his forearm and up, until he could feel its tingle along his spine and all the way down to the pit of his stomach. And further still. But there was also a flush of warmth there, nestled somewhere behind the safety of his rib cage. He gave the smaller hand a gentle squeeze. "Off with you then. Be about your business and return to us as swiftly as your errand will allow." _And please be careful_ , he added silently.

Bilbo visibly swallowed, his eyes fixed on their hands. "Right." And then he was gone, leaving the dwarf with a half-filled tankard and no one but his own soft chuckles to keep him company.

  

* * * * *

 

The door creaked open with little more than a slight push from his booted foot. And then he paused on the threshold, his breath catching at the sight that greeted him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Fili leaned to the side, shoulder and hip flush with the wooden frame of the doorway, and smiled. Kili was sitting in the middle of the large bed occupying the center of the room with one leg tucked close in front of him while the other, bent at the knee, was sprawled in an angle before him. His brother's head was inclined, his unbound hair curtaining his face in dampness as Kili slowly dragged his fingers through his long dark locks. His leisure pose depicted an arresting tableau of both beauty and virility, as well as a general air of total insouciance. He had opted for a clean pair of cotton braies, bunched up at the waist and tied with a drawstring. This left his chest exposed and the slightly wet curls glistened in the soft firelight. His usual undergarments, as Fili would later notice, had been scrubbed clean and were now spread atop the back of a chair for a night of drying.

"Brother ..." Fili's voice caught in his throat. It had been so very long since he had seen his younger sibling like this. Even before their company had departed on the quest for Erebor. Unduly curious and ever inquiring, Kili was full of unrestrained enthusiasm and was rarely known to be found sitting idly or relaxing. In fact, his general idea of relaxation was to either practice archery or swordplay with any willing participant. He abounded with energy and a constant need for activity. But this rare picture of his brother, as he patiently finger-combed his hair, radiated homeyness. It called to him like nothing else, tugging at his heart strings with an almost painful squeeze.

Kili looked up, somewhat startled. Clearly, he had not heard the sound of the door protesting as it opened. "Fili." His eyes alighted with joy as he offered his brother a beatific smile. Plucking a few wet strands of hair from across his cheek, Kili's gaze searched behind the elder prince for a moment, a slight frown marring his otherwise peaceful mien. "Where is Mister Baggins?" Fili was quick to detect the uncertainty lacing his brother's inquiry. He also knew his brother well enough to recognize the hint of dejection produced by Bilbo's marked absence.

Fili pulled himself straight and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "He will join us later," he reassured his sibling.

Kili's frown deepened. "Has something happened?" He was already shifting towards the edge of the bed, ready to dress himself quickly if needed.

Fili instantly mourned his loss as the placid mood that had reigned a moment ago all but vanished. "Be at ease, brother. All is well." Divesting himself of his leather coat, he dropped it on the nearby chest, over Kili's long coat. The gauntlets were next, abandoned on the wooden floor beside his brother's boots. "It would seem that our little burglar had to attend to some urgent, though private, matter."

"Should we worry?"

"About his safety?" Fili shook his head. "I believe he can well handle himself." Especially now that they knew about his magic ring and its power to render him invisible. "Besides, let us not forget that our presence here has generated more excitement and awe than hostility among the citizens. For the time being."

"Aye. For the time being." Kili did not appear quite convinced. In fact, his wary expression reminded Fili of their uncle whenever Thorin's thoughts were burdened by the magnitude of their quest - a journey that would ultimately lead them to their home and a dreaded, yet inevitable, confrontation. It was the same look, branded with grave intensity but also, if perceptive enough, one could detect the tragic acceptance behind those keen eyes. Fili understood Thorin's mind. Better than he let on, for the most part. He knew his uncle to be resolute in regards to the path that he now tread. He also knew Thorin's belief as to what fate had in store for him, at the end of it all. And looking at Kili now, the very image of their exiled king - their beloved uncle -, well, it pained him to see such seriousness on an otherwise carefree dwarf. Did Kili believe that Bilbo wanted nothing more to do with them?

"'Tis a strange thing," he began, working on a belt buckle, "how the resemblance can be uncanny at times."  This earned him a puzzled look from his brother. "You look like him," he explained.

"Who?" The younger dwarf was obviously confused but at least he seemed to relax enough to settle into a seated position, his legs dangling over the bedside as he watched Fili intently.

"Our uncle." _Who else_ , he refrained to add with an ironical smile. 

"I am nothing like him." A murmured affirmation that bespoke a deep feeling of unworthiness.

Fili sighed and finished undressing in silence while Kili stared at his hands, a disheartened air about him. Once he stood barefooted and in nothing but his underclothes, the elder prince approached his brooding sibling. "Little brother." He sat beside him and pulled him into a hug, his lips ghosting over Kili's right temple as he inhaled deeply, detecting the scent of winter savory and a touch of ... marjoram, was it? "You know you do not have to prove yourself to him. He knows your worth."

Kili's only response was to shrug, yet his body screamed of unease if the twisting and untwisting of fingers in his lap were any indicator.

"How coud you doubt yourself so?" But his query was met with muteness. "Kili ..."

His brother's hands stilled. "We both know who is the one true heir to the Durin line. In his eyes, there is only one worthy of ever succeeding him." And what hurt the most about Kili's words was the fact that he believed every single one of them and felt no resentment towards his elder sibling over the truth of it. His declaration was simple acknowledgement, no more.

"Not in mine." Fili's tone held more harshness than intended. His brother had always looked up to their uncle and while he never dared begrudge Kili's hero-worship of Thorin, he hated how it resulted in belittling his own self-worth. "Kili, look at me," he said with urgency.

The younger dwarf met his gaze and Fili felt blind-sided as he peered into dark pools of open admiration and deep affection, all thoughts slipping away unnoticed. Kili offered him a soft smile that warmed its way to the very marrow of his bones. Extending a hand, it hovered hesitantly over a stubbled cheek as he breathed out, "So beautiful."

Kili shied away from the compliment and swatted the hand aside, shoving lightly at his brother. "You reek of dank cells and soured apples. Take a bath before the water gets too cold."

"And smell of sweet herbs like you?" Fili protested around a hearty chuckle but proceeded to remove every last stitch of clothing from his body nonetheless.

"Bilbo will appreciate it, no doubt. A single whiff of you and he will be reminded of his garden at Bag End."

It was nice to feel the return of a lighter mood and to see Kili talk about Bilbo as if he might believe that the hobbit would join them later, as promised. Stepping into the tub of tepid water, Fili could not help but ask, "Do you think that will make me more savoury?" He ducked into the tub, his lips twitching into a grin, as his brother threw a washcloth at him.

"You are incorrigible!"

_TBC ..._

 


	2. A Cleansing of Sort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili needs a good cleansing. And while Kili has already bathed, it would seem that he requires a cleansing as well. Of a complete different sort. The brothers indulge in a bit of private, quiet time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all DistractionReaction's fault (and I thank her for it). Read Chapter One's notes for details.
> 
> Apologies for the delay in posting this next installment. There was a plan. Things were supposed to happen. Definitely less talking, I assure you. But the boys had something else in mind. Kili in particular. As I was explaining to a reader, I guess it's that whole 'facing the dragon' situation that now looms over them, blanketing their future in darkness and uncertainty. Yes. Let's blame it on that, shall we?
> 
> Many thanks to all who stop by to read my works. Kudos are the expression of approval that every artist seeks. Constructive criticism is the stuff that allows the creator to evolve. Comments stoke my writer's soul.

Clouds dispersed in the night sky, hinting at the new moon soon to be upon them as most of Lake-town slept under its faithful vigil. Thorin's company already slumbered in their cosy lodgings while their non-dwarven companion lurked in the shadows of streets and bridge alike, focused on his secret errand. Near the quays, overlooking the rotting pilings of Esgaroth of old, a wooden tavern and inn housed some very special guests. Durin princes, to be precise.

Kili was bent to the task of feeding more wood into the fire as the flames leapt and danced from within the hearth, casting a bright glow and welcome heat across the room. Fili thought that his brother had done well, procuring them a decent-sized room with a bed large enough to accomodate a couple of big-folk. Or two dwarves and one hobbit, even. The furnishing were sparse but functional and the door, thankfully, had a lock. They would be comfortable enough and could finally enjoy some privacy. Fili leaned back against the edge of the tub, his lips stretched in a satisfied grin. He watched Kili through heavy-lidded eyes, feeling the wariness seep into his bones as the water washed away a layer of sweat and grime, along with some aches and a good deal of muscle soreness. His gaze wandered over the younger dwarf's form and he could not help but notice the change. "Have you eaten, brother?" Kili was definitely thinner. Perhaps it was not so noticeable under the bulk of clothing and armor but once clad in little more than a yard or two of cotton, it was obvious. Especially to someone who was intimate with every inch of his princely form. Of course, they had probably all lost some weight since the start of their journey - especially the last leg of it. Mirkwood had been nothing but a winding path through misery and starvation, leading to the very edge of insanity and certain death. How they got out alive was nothing short of a miracle. A beautiful miracle that pursued adventure wearing a fancy corduroy jacket over a woolen waistcoat with brass buttons and adorned with a neckerchief. A truehearted friend that argued with mountain trolls, challenged Azog himself, with his pack of wargs and orc-riders, to save an embittered king-in-exile and called himself Bilbo Baggins.

Kili crossed to his side, lowering himself into a crouch beside the wooden tub. "I have."

"That is good then." The innkeeper must have provided him with something from the kitchen. Letting go of his worry for the time being, Fili closed his eyes and stretched his legs out before him. There was a definite advantage to being a dwarf in a town filled with humans, he thought to himself as he wiggled his toes without so much as touching the other end of the tub. He smiled when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, the wet slide of his fingers against his collarbone as Kili reached for the washcloth. Silence reigned between them as the youngest catered to the eldest, scrubbing the filth from every nook and cranny of his either exposed or submerged flesh. Sleep was beckoning him and he offered no resistance, answering its call with a contented sigh.

Something hot and wet ghosted over the tip of his ear and he twitched into semi-wakefulness. _Fili_ , he heard his name, a whisper upon his neck. Something else twitched into semi-wakefulness. He shifted his head to the side, further exposing the column of his throat as he let out a low questioning 'mmmm' that sounded more like a moan than a murmured query.

"I need to wash your back," Kili explained in a hushed tone, his breath now tickling the skin along the curve of Fili's jaw. "And your hair."

"Aye," the elder prince nodded, trying to shake the drowsiness. "Alright." Pulling his knees up, he leaned forward without opening his eyes, the length of his hair falling like a curtain on either side of his face. He heard a soft laugh behind him and all but groaned when Kili spread his hands across his shoulder blades and started kneading. His fingers were deft and knowing, massaging the familiar muscles into a relaxed state with enough soap to form a lather that would require thorough rinsing.

"You too have lost some weight, brother." It hardly surprised him that Kili knew the source of his earlier question and understood the unspoken concern behind it. They often shared the same thoughts, as if reading one another's mind. Almost as if they had been delivered together, as twins, instead of having five years separate their actual births.

"The past weeks have hardly been kind," Fili admitted before sliding beneath the water's surface to cleanse his back and properly soak his hair at his brother's gentle prodding. When he resurfaced, Kili was settled onto his knees, one elbow resting on the edge of the tub with his head propped against his raised forearm. He appeared to be in no rush to proceed with the washing. Instead, he slowly traced the line of Fili's sternum with his index finger, all the way to his navel. And then repeated the motion, not once venturing further down.

Fili watched the movement, transfixed, and held his breath as an echo from the past called to him - a tantalizing whisper from the shadowy edges of his mind.

"Do you remember ..." Kili began, pausing without shifting his eyes away from his finger.

There. Something slid into place. A memory. He recalled the heat of a blazing inferno and the distinctive smell of an apothecary's medicinal draughts. As well, a feeling of constant lethargy. But there was also the sound of a steady voice. A familiar voice. Fili swallowed thickly. "I remember."

Kili's finger resumed its course. "I was so afraid back then. Of you." He took a deep, shaky breath. "And of me." His finger gave a nervous twitch, though it did not stray from its path. "Afraid of this ... us." Another pause, this time at the navel. But no further words tumbled out of his mouth.

Fili looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. It was charged with yearning and something else. Something he could not identify. "Why?" He did not understand how his sibling could ever fear anything that transpired between them.

Kili's only reply was a helpless shrug and then he shook his head. "You had been abed for days, delirious with fever. Desperate, mother had suggested to Uncle that we seek help from the Havens." He winced at the memory. "That idea did not receive a warm reception from Thorin."

Rubbing his bearded chin with the back of his hand, Fili chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I can imagine." Strange that no one had ever related these details to him once the sickness had passed.

Kili laughed quietly, with restraint. Anxious. "A ridiculous idea, really. A fact made abundantly clear by way of Uncle's usual caustic manner. Though he had a point. Despite its proximity, the elven seaport was far from our doorstep." He sighed. "They often argued during those few days." Kili's brow was creased with a frown but his finger still traced its path over Fili's chest. Down and up. And down again. "They worried." He blew air out of his mouth in a long exhale, as if releasing some tension. "Of course they did." He bit his lower lip and averted his gaze. "On the fourth day, I was left alone with you. I was to keep watch while they took their quarrel to Balin for counsel. I could tell when the fever was finally relinquishing its hold on you." His words came out slower now, uttered in a quiet tone. "Evening had come and you were lying on your back with a sheet pulled to your hips. A sheen of sweat coated your body, giving it a golden lustre under the room's candlelight despite your overall paleness." Ducking his head, Kili wavered in his recounting. "I thought you most captivating and desperately wanted to touch you." His finger had begun another descent but stopped in the center of the eldest's rib cage. "Unlike a brotherly touch should be," he confessed.

Fili covered his sibling's hand with his own. His voice was rough when he spoke, "I remember waking to that touch, your finger following an invisible trail on my skin. Over and over again." _Like now_ , he thought, squeezing Kili's fingers with meaning.

"You looked at me with glassy eyes, the fever still burning hot and bright in them as it ran the tail end of its course." Kili glanced up and found himself caught in the heat of those same eyes. "But there was something else ... something more burning in their depths."

Fili swallowed audibly. "Yes."

"Even then."

Aye, even in his incoherent state.  "Always." He had roused from a deep slumber riddled with troubling dreams to a sight he never thought possible. Kili's newly awakened desire had been plainly writ across his face. It had been a welcoming sight, one he'd long yearned to see. And so despite his body being weighed down by sluggishness and his mind stuck in a stupor, he had still managed to somehow grasp for his sibling and before they knew it, they had both been caught in a whirlwind of torrid firsts.

"Fili ..."

He reached for Kili just as his brother reached for him, burying his free hand in the dark hair at the base of his neck and tugged forward, their lips meeting in a clattering of teeth and prodding of tongues as each fought for dominion over their private realm of desperate need and unbridled passion. Water dripped over the side of the tub as Fili turned onto his knees, giving him a slight advantage in height over his brother. He gasped, his senses reeling from the onslaught of desire that slammed into him with unparalleled ferocity. Kili licked into his mouth, moaning his pleasure as he grabbed the arm that held him in place and held on tight. His other hand had found its way behind Fili and was splayed between his shoulder blades. They both wanted this. Needed this. There had been no room for intimacy or relative closeness since their departure from Beorn's Hall. And their time spent in Thranduil's dungeon cells ...

Kili nipped his lower lip before pulling back a fraction. "Never leave my side again. Please." His eyes were imploring, his grip tightening around Fili's forearm.

It was reassuring to know that his brother had suffered just as greatly as he from their forced separation. Over six weeks (according to Bilbo and Ori's count) in isolation, agonizing over their possible fate, wondering if he would ever see Kili again. No. He would not suffer the repeat of such a break. Henceforth, nothing and no one would dare come and destroy their completeness. "I promise." _Even in death_ , he swore to himself.

"While imprisoned, Bilbo, he ..." Kili paused, as if deciding on his next words. Touching his forehead to Fili's, he exhaled slowly, no doubt willing his heart into a slower beating and giving his body a moment of reprieve from its heightened state of arousal. "His visits made things more bearable." Their little burglar had served as messenger between the captive dwarves.

"The hobbit saved us in more ways than one," Fili agreed, never letting his eyes stray from his brother's hypnotizing gaze, his thoughts dwelling on one particular visit where he had been especially bold in his request.

Kili suddenly pressed his mouth firmly over Fili's in a fierce kiss, omitting the use of his tongue. It was brief but pregnant with meaning. He released the blonde's forearm and twisted his hand around a golden braid, holding him close. "I never returned the favor," he smiled softly, the depth of his affection visible in his regard. "Thank you for that kiss. It served as a lifeline."

"And Bilbo was our anchor."

They were both silent then, letting that small fact, such a simple and obvious truth, sink in. And just like that, without any exchange of words, they both instinctively knew that they could not continue with their lovemaking. Not this time. Not without Bilbo. Gradually, their hold on each other relaxed and became more of an embrace.

It was Kili who eventually disturbed the quiet with a broken admission. "M'scared, Fili."

One glimpse and he saw it. The naked fear in his brother's eyes. Feeling his heart clench beneath his breastbone, Fili cradled his sibling's face between his hands, holding his gaze steadily. "Tell me."

"It is Uncle. This quest." Kili rubbed the back of his neck, pondering. "Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes." His lips puckered as he nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "It is as if he knows, brother." His tone was apprehensive.

"Go on," Fili beseeched him, surprised at the sudden change of topic though he felt relieved that Kili's fears had nothing to do with their hobbit friend.

"I do not think ... that is ... he does not expect to survive the retaking of Erebor ... does he?"

The heir apparent looked away, though he did not break contact. So Kili had felt it too. Fili heaved a miserable sigh. Thorin's resolve, enhanced by the legendary stubborness of dwarves, would be his undoing. It was no secret that his will to reclaim their gold and their lost kingdom was stronger than any other desire; he was bent on securing a future for their people. He had sworn an oath to avenge them. He meant to restore the past glory of the Dwarves and nothing would stand in his way - be that a fire-drake from the North or the curse of his predecessors. Aye, long had he suspected the tragic belief that resided in Thorin's heart. The king would retake the Lonely Mountain but another would be crowned as its ruler. Such a notion had been further corroborated through discussions with his mother and Dís' ultimate parting with her only remaining sibling. It had been a heart-wrenching scene, especially knowing that she did not expect to ever see Thorin again. Fili could not negate his brother's words though a hushed "I know" was all he could muster.

"And if it does come to that, if the dragon is still in residence, you will stand by his side, protecting him to your very last breath." The tremor in Kili's voice gutted him and the fact that he could not, once again, deny the other's words only made matters worse. He said nothing.

Kili nodded. "As a proper heir should," he concurred. By the set of his jaw and the determination glimpsed in his dark eyes, it was clear that he understood all too well. Thorin would not flee his home a second time. He would make his stand against Smaug or die trying. And suddenly, his little brother appeared older than his seventy-seven years. Fili did not know whether he quite liked the change in him. What he did know, however, was that if things went sour with the dragon and they were forced to battle Smaug, he would not stand alone in defense of their uncle.

"As a Durin should."

They held on to each other for a while, neither finding more to add to so solemn a pledge. But then the eldest shivered and the youngest commented on his gooseflesh. Thus Kili committed to the task of washing his brother's hair and within minutes the beads and clasps were removed, the braids were loosened, the lathering was completed and Fili was submerged in cool water, rinsing out the soap from his thick mane. Apparently, he had also earned a clean pair of braies after having toweled himself dry and he slipped into them with some relief at finally being clean. Though he still wrinkled his nose at the smell. Bilbo's garden indeed!

The siblings moved to the bed where they lounged comfortably, a subdued air about them. Yet the mood was neither woeful nor dispirited. Instead, they basked in a newfound tranquility, nurturing their closeness as Fili plaited his mustache with agile fingers while Kili braided the pale locks framing his face. It was somewhat of a ritual between them, something both intimate and familiar.

"Fili?" Kili had just fastened the last bead and was now drawing Cirth runes on his brother's thigh with the tip of his finger.

"Hmmm?"

"Is it wrong of me to not feel such a yearning for Erebor as the others do?" Kili's unwavering tone belied his guilt-ridden expression as he stared at invisible lines and curves.

Fili pushed back the strands of hair that covered his sibling's eyes and tilted his chin up with a gentle nudge. He drew his knuckles across a stubbled cheek and offered him a wistful smile. "I do not believe so, no."

"I do not wish to disappoint Uncle yet having never set foot beneath the Lonely Mountain, I cannot bring myself to call it home. Even this close to our goal." Kili thrust out his lips in a pout. "Surely the others would ..." But he never finished his sentence, having been effectively silenced by two digits placed over his mouth.

"Shhhhh. Say no more." The elder prince pulled his brother into a tight embrace, burying his nose into the crook of his neck as he snuggled closer. He inhaled deeply, filling his senses with the intoxicating scent and radiating warmth that was oh-so Kili and whispered, " _This_ is home."

They might have dozed off at some point, after shifting into a more accomodating position. Fili was now sitting on one side of the bed with his back against the headboard while Kili lay curled up beside him, his head in his brother's lap. The blonde's fingers were tangled in dark locks, the other hand held trapped between his hip and the youngest's own hand. There was a soft knock at the door, followed by a short pause. And then another gentle tap against the wood that could only be described as 'shy'. Kili opened his eyes and met Fili's gaze. Their little burglar had come a-calling.

 

_TBC ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> Huh.
> 
> Time to work on the part where I actually get to fill the prompt, I guess.
> 
> ::rolls up sleeves and cracks a few joints:: Let's get to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I am trying to stick to book canon as much as possible for the background/setting details of this fic, with some divergence in order to humor my creative spark. And, of course, to fulfill the prompt. But things such as Bilbo's cold, the dwarves' weapons being taken (including Orcrist) by the Mirkwood elves, Bilbo divulging his possession of the ring and the large house offered to Thorin's company ... yep, all part of the book. I do not know how they will treat these elements in the next movie but there is one detail for which I saw movie set pictures and chose to not acknowledge them in this story. Basically, it would seem that our beloved (movie version) dwarves will be barrel-bound in much less clothing than we found them before they were imprisoned by Thranduil. Yet, according to the book, Thorin still had his hood on (tassel and all) when he came out of his barrel on the shore of Long Lake's bay. I assume this means that they were not divested of much else, other than weaponry (of which there are far less compared to our Hollywood warriors). So am sticking with this explanation. However, if I missed a book detail there, please correct me. I will not change the story itself as a result but at least I will know the right of it, in my mind. Otherwise, visually, these dwarves are Peter Jackson's dwarves through and through. What can I say, I fully approve of his casting and that is how I now see them in my mind when I imagine stories that involve them.
> 
> Disclaimer (because I am old school that way): Tolkien is the consummate artist and Middle Earth is his chef d’oeuvre. I hold his work in highest regard and as such would not presume to unlawfully use his literary creations for profit. I am only borrowing from his imagination … for the pleasure of expounding on his already established genius.
> 
> Last but not least ... I apologize for I do tend to ramble on and on. Quite a lot, actually.


End file.
